


The Replacement

by fluffmonsterc3



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Anal Sex, Clint and Natasha are awesome, M/M, Magic, Multi, Oral Sex, Sex Magic, Snarky Jarvis, Threesome, Voyeurism, amoral!Steve, horny!Tony, masturbation(?), moral!Steve, plot purely for the purpose of porn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-07-16
Packaged: 2017-11-28 00:37:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/668283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffmonsterc3/pseuds/fluffmonsterc3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A weird slime monster shows up and the Avengers are there to fight! But then Steve gets hit by a weird magic stick and there's... two of them?! Fury and the other Avengers lock them both up in the holding cell until Tony, Bruce, and all the staff figure out what the hell happened and how to get the two Steve's back into one. In the meantime, one Steve finds himself with two very ardent suitors who are desperate to get into his tan pants--that guy that looks exactly like him and one Tony Stark, who just happened to watch. Then joined in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In the beginning, there was a monster with a magic stick

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for the Avengers kinkmeme prompt:
> 
> **Inspired by a Buffy the Vampire Slayer episode
> 
> Baddie of the week uses magic on Steve to split him into two separate Steves:  
> \- Steve 1 gets all of Steve's "good" qualities: his righteousness, kindness, courage, etc. In other words, the emodiment of goodness - but unable to fight worth a damn.  
> \- Steve 2 gets all of Steve's "super solider" qualities: his tactical abilities, fighting abilities, etc. In other words, a complete badass - but also completely amoral. 
> 
> I would be absolutely ecstatic with a fill where either:
> 
> (1) Amoral!Steve 2 fucks the boy scout right out of sweetheart!Steve 1; or  
> (2) Amoral!Steve 2 goes after Steve's crush, Tony* 
> 
> *Or other Steve pairing! I like Steve with just about everyone. :)

\--  
The Replacement  
\--

Steve was in the helicarrier, locked up in the 360˚ glass paneled holding cell originally meant for the Hulk. Perhaps I should be more specific. _Both_ Steve’s were on either side of the holding cell—one of them with his knees up under his chin, eyes shifty, while the other stared him down, one leg sprawled comfortably out while the other was bent up at the knee with his muscled elbow resting against it, arm hanging loose and relaxed despite the blood-soaked bandages wrapped tightly around his hands. Other than looking exactly the same down to number of hairs along every inch of their bodies, the two Steve’s exuded totally different auras.

Let’s back up a bit.

Earlier that day, a monster that looked like a mound of hardened black lava filled with neon green slime emerged from the sewers with this magical wooden stick that he swung around quick enough to smack right into the middle of Steve’s chest, sending two—not one!—bodies back from the blow and onto the ground. One stayed down. One got back up with a snarky quip, hitching his shield high and plunging right into a super-strength fight with the weird demon thing.

The other Avengers helped in their own way, Bruce holding back the Hulk to kneel by the Steve still unconscious on the ground while Clint and Natasha rerouted the crowds, keeping the street(s) clear as the fight moved. And damn did it move. Steve was a single-minded machine, lunging cement-cracking punches straight to any part of the demon he could reach, landing a good number of blows to where the monster started to crack and ooze.

Tony, safe in his Iron Man suit, buzzed around the fight, landing a punch or two whenever Steve wasn’t crowding up and hogging the baddie for himself. He wasn’t the one to give up on a fight, but after Steve—STEVE ROGERS, boy scout extraordinaire—punched Tony’s suit hard enough to send him flying into a building with a snarl to “get outta my way,” well, who was Tony to argue?

Then Steve had pounded the demon onto his back and through the cement, his body cracked and oozing neon green slimy stuff that made the sidewalk smoke.

Not two seconds later, Steve was punching the demon like he insulted his mother, smashing in his face and chest, hammering away until his fists were bleeding from the slime eating through his gloves and into his skin.

Tony roughly pulls him away, but just barely. He even had to use his propulsion system to get Steve to back off, which he only did after landing a crunching kick (complete with sneering snarl) to the monster’s leg that twisted disgustingly to the side.

Bruce had rushed over to Steve with the strict instruction to get to medical immediately before the green ooze ate through his skin to the bone. Tony, in the meantime, stared down at the unconscious Steve, unable to think anything but, “Just a day in the life.”

Fury was adamant about locking both Steve’s up until they found a solution as to how to put the two back together into one Steve. The Avengers were, for once, 100% on board. So, one unconscious Steve being carried by Iron Man and the other stiffly walking into the holding cell after being minimally treated for his hands, the two were locked in while Tony and Bruce and all the scientists and monster experts SHEILD could spare worked tirelessly in the labs to find a solution. Based on the fact that they had nothing to go on besides samples of the monster thing, it was bound to take awhile.

The Steve’s had hours ago submitted to the fact that they’d be in that cell together for an extended period of time. Neither had the same idea about how to pass the time.

The Steve on the left sighed and rubbed a hand against his tired eyes.

“Will you _please_ stop staring at me. It’s too odd to see me staring, well, at _me_.”

The other Steve just cocked his head a little, moving around his jaw as if thinking.

“Does it bother you?”

Blinking, the first Steve was surprised at how low a register his voice could go. Did he sound like that normally? Shifting and pulling his knees up tighter against his chest, Steve shrugged, averting his eyes and peering over at the large metal door that led to the outside.

While the two were obviously the same person with their blond hair, blue eyes, and muscled physique, the one trying to disappear into the floor was wearing his blue Captain America hoodie on top of his typical tight white t-shirt and tan pants with his hair slicked back; while the one sprawled out like he was sitting on a couch was wearing his tight white t-shirt and tan pants with his hair a controlled muss.

“Aren’t you curious?”

Blinking, the other Steve turned his gaze from where he had been focusing on the floor and meet the steely gaze of the other him across the room.

“About what?”

“The differences.”

Steve shifted a little to get more comfortable. Honestly, this floor was the worst to sit on for hours at a time. Lips twitching up a little in a friendly almost-smile, Steve answered honestly, “Not really. I mean we look the same, so I figured we probably are the same person up here,” he tapped his temple.

The other Steve leered.

“Not exactly what I meant.”

Steve frowned, a deep crease forming between his eyebrows as he blinked in confusion. Lowering his knees and rearranging himself to sit cross-legged, Steve asked, “Well what did you mean, then?”

Of all things, he didn’t expect the other Steve to push up from the floor and walk over to his side, halting just two feet away from him. It almost hurt Steve’s neck to look up that high. Hoo buddy, was he really that tall?

The other Steve, arms resting comfortably at his hips, answered, “I meant physically different.”

Pushing himself up but still hugging the wall, Steve stood and was face-to-face with his doppelganger. 

“Oh. W-well.” Then he gave the other Steve a once-over, recognizing the face down to the arch of his mouth and the freckle just barely visible against the hairline on his right temple. He nodded a bit, not able to help himself from smiling in wonderment at the magic. “Huh. That’s so amazing. We’re exactly the same.”

The other Steve walked forward, eyes locked on Steve’s, who practically plastered himself to the wall, feeling completely caged in and almost panicked at seeing _himself_ get so close they were almost sharing air.

“W-what…” he swallowed, then tried again, “What’re you doing?”

The other Steve smirked. “Relax,” he chuckled a bit, lifting his hand and tracing the edge of Steve’s nose down to the top of his upper lip, “I’m just testing something out.”

“Testing?”

“Yeah. Just how much alike we really are.” The other Steve said, continuing his tracing of Steve’s face by smoothing the pads of his fingers over his right cheek and down to curve around his jaw and down his neck right at his sensitive skin over his artery. 

Steve frowned and shifted forward, hand coming up to grasp the other Steve’s to stop his wandering hand.

“Hey. What all are you testing there, buddy?”

The other Steve’s gaze snapped from where he had fixated on Steve’s neck to lock onto his, and Steve couldn’t hold back the rush of dryness in his throat and the subsequent stuttering gulp. It was electric and packed with a thick heat Steve had never seen before. It made a nervous tingle pool in his lower abdomen. He couldn’t quite tell if it was arousal or nausea. Probably both.

The other Steve chuckled lowly, a sound that radiated out of his chest like a rumbling purr, as his mouth stretched into a leering grin before twisting his wrist out of Steve’s grip and using it to pull Steve flush against him.

Steve’s eyes widened as their bodies came together—exactly the same to where they fit together like puzzle pieces, taut abs against taut abs, defined chest against defined chest, and even pelvis against pelvis, but one was different than the other. Gasping at the feel of the hard cock against him, Steve tried to jerk away, but the other Steve had both of his hands locked into his, bending them at the elbow and pulling his arms behind him to rest at the small of his back. Steve winced in pain at being held so crushingly tight, squirming against the hot body against his with his stomach in knots, that tingling feeling roiling through his abdomen while his chest was tight with nervousness.

He felt the other Steve’s hot breath against his ear, laughing just enough to send puffs of air against his neck.

“You ask me what I’m testing,” the other Steve whispered lowly right against Steve’s ear, rubbing his cheek teasingly softly against the identical one beside it. He leaned closer, teeth brushing against Steve’s lobe as he whispered directly into the channel, “Every physical _inch_.” 

Then he licked a burning hot strip from Steve’s lobe to the curved tip of his ear, his whole body giving a pleasured shiver at the taste of salt and wax and pure nerves that were positively radiating off of the body flush against him.

\--

Steve, despite never rising to the needling that Tony inflicted upon him, actually considered himself to be the model boy scout. As he was a scout before the super serum, he had been smaller than the other boys, and required more breaks during camping to prevent an asthma attack. But he had more than made up for his lack in physical ability with his never wavering commitment to the credo: be clean, be considerate, be careful. He even went so far as to apply his credo to everyday life—not just in how to treat the outdoors, but also how to treat people.

Clearly his double wasn’t of the same understanding.

The other him had Steve’s arms pinned at the small of his back, a wet, hot tongue sliding a trail of slick that quickly cooled up his neck and around the sharp curve of his jaw to the point of his chin. The slimy feeling made Steve’s whole body shiver, his arms wriggling to break free from the iron grip of his doppelganger. 

“How much do you think we’re alike, Stevie?” The other Steve whispered against his jaw, teeth nipping and grazing against his adam’s apple that bobbed as he swallowed against the dryness of his throat. “Huh? Think we have the same birthmark?”

Steve’s eyes widened, his whole body going stiff before his struggles were renewed tenfold. Licking his face he could take. Restraining him from moving he could take. Comparing birthmarks in such a lewd place… definitely not happening.

But the other Steve just laughed at his struggles, tightening his grip on Steve’s twisting wrists against the small of his back, the movements rubbing and bumping their bodies together as the other Steve just pulled his closer—right flush against his body, pelvis to pelvis.

Rolling his head back and jutting his hips forward, the other Steve groaned.

“Fuck, Stevie. You gotta stop moving.” 

Feeling the twitching cock right against the seam of his pants, Steve stopped, frowning and glaring at his double, feeling disgusted and offended. He didn’t let up the twisting and wriggling of his arms, though. 

Jerking his shoulder to try and dislodge his arm from his double’s tight grasp, Steve said, “Let me go and I’ll sit down and we can both stop moving.”

Tilting his head to where his hair shifted, the other Steve grinned slowly.

“Was I always this prudish?”

Steve’s frowned deepened, a crease forming between his eyebrows at the sharp sting of insult. 

“What you call prudish, I call moralistic, pal.” Steve gave another sharp tug, not able to hold back a wince at the stinging burn against his wrists. “Let me go!”

The other Steve rolled his eyes. “You’re really irritating me now.”

Before Steve could respond, his double had pulled one of his arms out from behind his back, making quick work of his jacket. Holding Steve’s arm tightly against his side, he unzipped the blue Captain America jacket, leaning down, and grasping at the sleeve with his hand to give a ripping tug.

“Hey!” Steve yelled, wriggling his whole body and jerking to get away. He couldn’t stop a whine. “That’s my favorite jacket.”

Letting go of Steve’s wrists, the other Steve pinned him against the see-through wall with his body, hips snug against hips, chest against chest, as he made quick work of the sleeve. The other Steve, easily pinning Steve in place with his superior strength, ripped the sleeve in roughly half. Grappling with Steve’s flailing hands, the other Steve caught them both in an iron grip, holding his wrists together in front of him and binding them tight with the fabric while Steve thrashed about. It did nothing but bring their full bodies into contact, flaccid against fully erect cock, rubbing the hot skin of their chests together through the thin fabric of their t-shirts.

Then the zipper of Steve’s jacket grazed the other Steve’s nipple, which quickly hardened and pebbled at the shock of lust that shot straight to his dick.

“Nnngg!” He moaned, one hand grasping Steve’s bound hands as his head fell forward onto the muscled shoulder identical to his own, rubbing his chest up and down for that pleasure bursting friction bordering on pain as the cold metal edges lightly scraped at his skin through the fabric. 

The rubbing required his body to roll, bringing his pelvis and hard cock against Steve’s thigh. The other Steve started panting, hot breaths puffing against Steve’s blue jacket as his cock and nipples were stimulated. But it was too damn slow.

Then Steve unfroze from underneath him and pushed out, able to dislodge the other Steve but not get his hands free. He was panting too, but glaring.

Keeping his tight grip on Steve’s wrists, the other Steve gave him a once over. He was panting, his face a light dusting of pink that rose up from his neck ( _wonder how far that goes?_ ), and although he was glaring his eyes held an intriguing mixed look between fear and curiosity. 

He could go with that.

Steve said lowly, “Untie me and let me go.” Giving the other Steve a disgusted once-over, Steve said, “We’re obviously much more different in the head than I thought.”

“Hhmmm.” The other Steve sighed, shifting Steve’s bound wrists and arms over his head to rest against his shoulders, leaving his hands free to hold Steve’s waist despite the other’s wordless protestations. 

“You’re absolutely right.” 

He leaned closer to Steve’s face, just a mere millimeter from his lips to where they shared the same air, eyes locked.

The other Steve whispered hotly against Steve’s pursed lips, “But I still can’t help but wonder…” His hands slid down over the curve of Steve’s ass and gripped, slotting their pelvises together with a delicious pressure. Steve squeaked, his eyes blowing wide before drooping to half-mast. 

The other Steve sighed shakily, “Are we more alike physically?”

\--

In the far right corner of the holding cell room, there was a camera. Neither of the occupants in the room were aware of it because they, essentially, shared the same brain of one Steve Rogers, who never held the knowledge of said camera. 

Tony had always considered himself to be a lucky man. A man of fortune. But today was like finding a fucking unicorn. The two Steve’s were totally molesting each other, one of them having bound the other’s wrists as he pinned the other against the wall, grinding their hips together as he made out with the other’s neck. The one against the wall didn’t look like he was fighting it anymore, if his undulating hips and lust-filled eyes were anything to go by.

A clearing throat behind him snapped him out of his gaping daze.

He turned his head to see Bruce with that teacher look. The one that kindergarten teachers learn to fix on naughty children who shouldn’t be doing what they’re doing. 

“Are you honestly not going to stop them?” Bruce asked, eyebrow raised and a disapproving look in his deep brown eyes.

Pouting, like full out pouting, Tony could do nothing but gesture back to the monitor and let out an indistinguishable, “Bhuh?”

Sighing, Bruce pinched at the bridge of his nose. “Yes, Tony. I am aware that you find the idea of two Steve’s screwing each other to be appealing; however, I really have to be the voice of reason here. Steve was hit with magic, Tony.” Bruce’s gaze turns serious. “We have no idea what would happen if the two Steve’s decide to…” He clears his throat again and shrugs, “get primal.”

Intrigued, Tony’s gaze turned thoughtful. He crossed his arms and leaned back against his desk. 

“And what if it helped?”

Bruce opened his mouth to object, but Tony held up a hand.

“No, no. Really. You said it yourself. This is a bit of magic that we have no idea how to reverse.” Scoffing, Tony gestured to their messy desks with stacks of tablets containing algorithms running the probability of different solutions to reverse the effects of having two Steve’s, each a more ridiculous hypothesis than the last. “We’re not even close, bro. When you think about it, it makes since. We want the two to combine, so…”

Tony grinned lecherously. “Why don’t we let them… _combine_?”

“You are aware that you’re risking Steve’s safety just so you can watch him fuck himself?”

Turning back to the monitor, Tony watched avidly. “Oh I take full responsibility. JARVIS?”

“Yes, sir.”

Sitting down in his chair and relaxing, Tony said, “Record the feed from the holding cell room please. Full sound.”

“Already began, sir.”

Grinning, Tony leaned back, snaking a hand down to unzip his pants as Bruce snorted in disbelief.

Turning to leave the lab, Bruce called over his shoulder, “The second, and I mean the absolute _second_ things get ugly in there, Tony, I’m sending in the other guy and separating those morons.”

But Tony was too distracted to process what he said.

\--

Steve wasn’t nauseous anymore. 

At first, when the other Steve had started shifting their pelvises together—the concave curve of their hips so identical each sensitive point was rubbed, along with the rapidly extending flesh straining against their pants—Steve had felt the tight tenseness of his chest constrict his breathing, a cold shiver of disgust rippling up his spine. He was doing this sort of thing _with himself_.

But when he voiced his opinion, his other self had just chuckled hotly against his neck, licking and laving and sucking so good Steve’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, nearly missing it when the other Steve whispered against his neck, “Logically, this is just masturbation. You got a problem with self service, Stevie-boy?”

Emerging a little from his lust-filled haze, Steve opened his mouth to contest that flimsy logic, but was distracted by the other Steve locking his mouth on his pulse point, suckling and laving at the sensitive skin as Steve trembled beneath him.

The other Steve rocked them together, sliding their clothed hips together and circling to put more of that delicious pressure against his pulsing cock leaking into his underwear. 

“Fuck, Stevie,” he panted into the hot neck beneath him, teeth grazing against the red skin where he sucked so hard he popped blood vessels. 

Then Steve snapped out of the haze, stomach doing flops as he steeled himself against the onslaught of lustful feelings to lock onto his credo—this was a totally wrong situation. Cupping his bound wrists together, elbows bending onto the other Steve’s shoulders, Steve pushed him away, shifting his hips to not be exactly lined up with his double’s hips.

Panting and still closer to the other Steve’s pleasure-darkened gaze than he would like, Steve gulped and gasped out, “We can’t do this. Just stop. Please, please just stop.” His eyes were pleading, hoping the other him would see reason. 

Expression hardening with his resolve, Steve tugged on the back of the other Steve’s shirt at the neck. “You get that this isn’t right, don’t you?” He implored, his clear blue eyes searching his double’s eyes.

The other Steve shook his head slowly. “You really are something else, you know?”

Blinking, Steve had no idea what that meant. Then the other Steve swooped in for a kiss, managing to lock their lips and even probe at Steve’s lips before Steve ripped himself away by turning his head.

“Stop that!” Steve gasped out, trying to lift up his arms from where they were resting on the other Steve’s shoulders, but a hard grip stopped him.

The other Steve was smirking, leering down at him with a hungry look that shot heat directly through Steve’s dick, which twitched against the other Steve’s thigh. Feeling the slight movement against his thigh, the other Steve glanced down then back up to lock onto Steve’s blushing face.

“I don’t think all of you is objecting to this situation.”

Then his leg wedged between Steve’s and started rubbing back and forth, caressing tight against Steve’s sensitive balls and lengthening cock in a way that pooled a burning hot coil of lust and need in his lower abdomen. 

Panting, Steve closed his eyes, shifting his hips down onto that mouth-watering pressure and, gripping his bound hands together behind the other Steve’s neck, pulling the other tighter against him, rubbing their chests together.

“Mmmm,” the other Steve moaned in appreciation, wide hands gripping and squeezing the defined muscles of Steve’s perfectly sculpted ass. Then he pushed Steve back, pulling his bound hands off of the other Steve’s shoulders. 

Steve may have whimpered a little as the pressure left, then he pushed back, ripping his hands out of the other Steve’s grip and settling his arms back on his shoulders, holding his hands behind the other Steve’s neck and pulling him forward while simultaneously jumping up to wind his legs around the other Steve’s waist, locking his feet and pressing their pelvises together while he tilted his head to lock their lips.

“Nnnngg!” The moan was Steve’s this time, undulating his hips to grind his pulsing cock down into the other Steve’s answering bulge, whose tongue wetly probed and thrust into his willing mouth. It was a sloppy kiss, full of the want to taste and stroke and consume. Steve caressed his lips against his double’s identical set, finding himself growing increasingly curious as to how far their physical likeness went. 

Their hot, wet tongues writhed together in an intricate dance of dominance, both desperate to get into the other’s mouth to stroke teeth and gums and slide against the other’s delicious tongue, taste buds going crazy at the texture and taste that was identical—both of them tasted like what they had for lunch that day, the tang of citrus and spices and sweet and salty so overwhelming they could do nothing but heave and pant out of their noses, breaking every so often to inhale in a deep gasp so they could plunge back in as soon as possible.

All the time, they simultaneously began to thrust against each other through their clothes, pushing and rolling and rubbing their fully erect cocks together steadily, building up the blood-pounding need to burst that was rapidly heating up their bodies. 

With their bodies flush together, the other Steve pinning Steve into the clear wall while his legs were locked around him, their tight, muscled chests rubbed together. The feeling of hot skin seeped through the thin cotton t-shirts, the other Steve purposefully trying to rub his hardened nipples against the open zipper of Steve’s jacket, moaning deep and long into Steve’s mouth when he succeeded. 

Steve was the first one to break the kiss. His body was trembling, his head felt heavy and he could barely separate far enough from the other Steve enough to be able to pant out, “I can’t—can’t last.”

The other Steve nodded, digging his fingers into the seam right up the middle of Steve’s pants, squeezing his ass and pressing them even closer together to the point where both of them moaned at the tight, tight pressure against their fully erect cocks that had long ago soaked enough pre-cum to stain the front of their tan pants.

“Wanna check if our birthmarks are the same?” The other Steve asked, leering at Steve with a greedy grin and lust-filled eyes that darken the blue hue.

Steve shuddered in his arms, panting hotly in the other Steve’s face as he nodded shakily, his body feeling like jelly as the other Steve slid his wide hands down from Steve’s ass to his thighs and behind his knees. At the hint, Steve unlocked his feet from behind the other Steve and stood unsteadily, leaning heavily on the other Steve with his arms still around his neck.

The other Steve gripped his hands at the bound wrists, taking them off of his shoulders, over his head, and down to hang in front of the panting, blushing, swollen-lipped Steve.

He’s never seen anyone so fuckable in his _life_. And it’s _himself_. Talk about an ego boost.

“Turn to the wall and bend over,” he says lowly, growling as his voice is so deep and nearly strangled with lust.

Steve complies with a hitched breath and damnably tempting bite to his lower lip that made the other Steve nearly cream his pants at the thought of shoving his thick cock into that sexy mouth.

Steve bends over, bracing himself by leaning up his elbows on the clear glass, his bound wrists up close to his forehead.

“Like this?” He whispers, shifting nervously, unknowing that in so doing his ass swayed left to right.

The other Steve couldn’t get his pants off soon enough, reaching around his waist to unbutton and unzip Steve’s tan pants and pulling them over the perfect globes of his ass and down to the floor with a cushioned clink—underwear and all.

Breathing out harshly at the sight—damn did he look sexy from this angle!—the sculpted, muscled ass presented so prettily in front of him, the dimples just barely visible where glorious smooth skin curved over that ass and met that tight back before it was covered by his blue jacket. The other Steve’s eyes locked onto the shadowy dip of his tailbone at the cleft of his ass. 

He wondered what it tasted like.

Priorities first. Both Steve’s shared the same memories, so both of them were fully aware of where his birthmark was. It was a small star-shaped burst of white skin on the deep inside of his left thigh.

So the other Steve knelt down to his knees, warm, wide hands splaying over Steve’s ass and sliding down to his thigh, pushing his legs apart slightly so he could see. 

Barely able to speak at the feeling of hot breath puffing against his sensitive inner thigh, Steve stuttered out, “I-is it there?”

The other Steve slid a finger up the inside of his leg, from the soft skin behind his knee, over his quads, and finally inside his thigh, the pad of his finger calloused and rough in comparison to the baby-soft skin. Steve trembled at the sensory overload as his body could do nothing but focus on that one tingling point being touched on his thigh, clenching his eyes tight and leaning back into the other Steve’s finger. 

“Oh yeah,” the other Steve breathed hotly into his skin, sliding his hand against that soft skin to fondle Steve’s tight, thick thigh before leaning forward to lick up his leg.

“GAH!” Steve gasped, leaning his head forward to rest against his bound hands on the cool glass.

That sinfully hot tongue traced a wet, thin path up Steve’s thigh. The other Steve was using just the tip of his tongue, pointing his wet organ to catch the salty taste of sweat, inhaling the sweet smell of Steve’s soap and the heady undercurrent smell of come. Glancing above him, the other Steve had the perfect view kneeling beneath Steve and licking up his thigh.

Steve was bent over, his eyes clenched shut as his chest took in heaving breaths, mouth open, tight muscled body stretched out with his arms resting against the clear glass. The other Steve could see everything from a very unique angle. Steve’s balls were so close to his face he could probably count the number of light blond hairs on them, then there was his glorious cock—jutting up in an upward curve, the skin flushed red and even purple near the mushroom head already leaking come from the slit in the tip. 

The other Steve slid forward, turning so that he could flatten his tongue and lave at Steve’s quivering thigh, eyes wide open and taking in that perfect view of Steve—raking up past Steve’s perfect cock and up to his heaving torso, disappointed that the other him was still wearing his shirt and his blue jacket (sans sleeve). 

But he had lived with his body plenty long enough to be able to imagine him without said clothes—picturing the creases between Steve’s perfectly cut abs and his chest, eyes locking onto those dusty nipples he knew were under that white shirt that just begged to be tweaked. 

Nipping right on the white starburst birthmark high up on Steve’s inner thigh, relishing in the whimpering moan, the other Steve caressed up Steve’s thigh as a distraction while he stuck two fingers in his mouth, swishing his tongue around the digits to gather up as much saliva as possible.

Then it was back to worshiping Steve’s thighs. Leaning back, he kneeled right behind Steve, both hands caressing the backs of his knees and up those smooth, tight thighs as his mouth kissed, nipped, and mouthed his way up to Steve’s ass. Sliding both of his hot, wide palms up and around the soft globes of Steve’s ass, the other Steve buried his nose into the crease, his cock lurching up at Steve’s corresponding gasp and shudder. 

Then his tongue went to work, the slick organ probing and laving at the pulsing, puckered hole. He’d never seen himself from this angle. It was almost like he wasn’t about to fuck himself, then he heard Steve groan and whimper, the voice unmistakably his. His entire body trembled at the sound with a rush of arousal so hot he had to clamp around his shaft to keep from shooting his load too early. Oh no, the only place he was coming was in that tight channel in front of his face.

Circling his wet tongue around Steve’s hole, the other Steve kneaded the soft, warm ass in his hands to help relax the muscles, running his thumbs up into the crease and massaging deep into the muscles right where his ass met his back.

“Nnngg, hah! S-Steve,” he gasped, bending further back to get some relief from the building arousal threatening to explode from his very core. He was just so fucking _hot_.

The other Steve groaned at the sound of himself moaning his own name, sticking two of his fingers back in his mouth for a reapplication of saliva, slaving his tongue around and up the digits to collect as much as possible. Then he went back to Steve’s asshole, kissing the puckered hole before flattening his tongue out to lave and probe into it, coating it in slick saliva. Good enough.

Circling the pink hole with the very tip of his finger, the other Steve pushed into that tight ring, nearly coming at the sight of the hot flesh surrounding his finger. He moved his finger around, pumping in and out slowly just to the first knuckle as his finger was hugged tightly. Holy shit it’d been a long time. The other Steve stretched out the rim as much as he could with one finger, keeping the way slick by nudging in his wet, wriggling tongue inside the tight channel right beside his finger.

“Ah!” Steve cried out, his legs trembling and back bowing out to try and force that tongue to go further, to press harder on his prostate and take away the stretching burn.

They were both too close for much stretching, the other Steve concluded. So he brought up his middle finger, nudging it in beside his first finger just to the first knuckle, pumping both in and out until they were to the second knuckle, suckling and probing his tongue around his fingers and against that quivering, reddened hole to keep the way slick.

“S-Steve!” He gasped out, rolling back onto those fingers prodding so deliciously to stimulate his prostate. “I-I’m too close…”

Fuck.

The other Steve scissored his two fingers, massaging Steve’s lower back to relax his muscles to let in the third finger, which he plunged relentlessly inside right next to his other fingers.

Eyes widening at the sharp burn, Steve panted, concentrating on relaxing and focusing on how much the other Steve was rubbing against his prostate, sending pleasure bursting tingles all throughout his body, adding fuel to the flame of lust coiling tight in his belly, his cock so full, his balls tight and hard and so fucking full of come he was about to burst.

“S-Steve, please,” He gasped out, rolling his ass back and nudging the fingers inside deeper, “I’m so close, just—”

But the other Steve needs at least one more finger, so he spits into his pinky finger before wriggling that one inside as well, putting direct stimulation against Steve’s sensitive prostate. The tight channel clenches on his fingers, and before Steve can come, the other Steve clenches a tight hand around him, cutting him off to just a dry ejaculation.

To Steve, it’s the perfect mix of pleasure and pain. He’s coming, he feels the electric shocks all through his belly and twitching cock, but the semen is stuck in his balls, pushing so desperately to burst out of his leaking, twitching cock that’s now a dark red color. Then the waves gradually die down, the pulses of pleasure calming to just be throbs of need, like he has to piss really, really fucking badly.

He whimpers and clenches his ass around the other Steve’s fingers.

“Please, please fuck me now,” he whispers, half gone.

The other Steve removes his fingers, licking his hand from palm to fingertips and spitting as much as he can into his hand before wrapping it around his dick to coat it in the slick, barely there lubricant.

He’s panting too, so fucking ready to sink into that tight heat. But he needs to get Steve’s mind off of it. He’s already tensing back up. So Steve chuckles lowly, caressing a hand at the bottom of Steve’s spine and over the cleft of his spread ass.

“Well, well, well, listen to you. I thought you said I was wrong?”

Steve shook his head, canting his hips up and thrusting out to just get _something_ back inside him.

“Don’t… sorry… I-I’m sorry. Not so wrong. P-please, just—”

That was enough. The other Steve stepped up behind him, gripping one of his hips as he lined up his cock and sank halfway into that blessed, clenching heat, hissing through his teeth at the tight, tight squeeze.

“Fuuuuuuuuck!” He whimpered, his cock twitching and pulsing, urging to be able to come. He was already plenty aroused enough to just fucking let go, but he wasn’t done yet. He could feel every velvety, hot inch of Steve’s inner walls squeezing against his cock. He could feel every ridge of his cock move as he started to rock, short, medium, then long thrusts as he pulled all the way out, just leaving in the tip, before sinking back into that heat with a groan.

Steve felt like he was being cleaved in half. Holy shit was his dick really that big?! The saliva did nothing but ease the passage a little bit, leaving plenty of room for his inner walls to clench and snag against the skin of the other Steve’s throbbing cock on the way out. It was so fucking hot. The burning stretch made his own cock pulse, leaking out come from the slit in the very tip of his bobbing dick that bounced against his stomach with each increasingly hard thrust.

The other Steve had precum leaking out, easing the way further, preventing the catching of skin on inner walls, and so increasing his pace and depth. He didn’t have to stop halfway anymore. The other Steve was slamming home, the hard base of his cock stretching out Steve’s tight outer rim, pressing and rubbing roughly directly against his prostate. 

“AAAGH!!” Steve yelled, pushing desperately back to match his double’s pace, his cock straining so hard it was practically dribbling come already. Fuck he was so ready to burst.

Then the other Steve went frenzied, plunging inside the tight, clenching channel in short, rapid thrusts like a piston, slapping their pelvises together hips to ass, hands pulling Steve’s hips back onto his dick, chasing desperately after his orgasm that loomed so fucking close.

“Ooh! Ah! AAH, STEVE!” Steve cried out, totally overwhelmed by the urgent sound of their joining, the slap, slap, slapping, and the heady smell of salt and come, and the feeling of that long, thick dick spearing into him and spreading him open so fucking far, hitting his prostate so repeatedly that his orgasm was like having an electric shock. 

His whole body went tense, his back bowing as he threw his head back in a silent scream, cock erupting spurts of come all over the clear glass in front of him. Shocking bolts of pure pleasure ricocheted throughout his frame, searing his nerves and burning white spots in the backs of his eyes. He even lost hearing for a little while. And there was blackness, but also warmth.

He only realized he had blacked out after he woke up in the medical wing.

\--


	2. In the middle, there was a sexyfine threesome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here’s the Steve/Tony/Steve part, yo. Inspired by the last scene in the Buffy TVS episode where Anya tries to get Giles to wait before combining the two Xanders so she can wisely take advantage of the situation, and he doesn’t. Poor Anya. This sexy sandwich is for her. 
> 
> Wherein: Steve is in the medical wing and the other Steve and Tony decide to have a threesome as soon as Bruce leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/n: Grag to real life. Threesome porn takes forever to write, like holy shit long. Etc. etc. whatever. *shoves porn at you* :D enjoy!

\--

Steve woke up in gradual bursts of sound and light. 

First it was acknowledging the steady beep beep beep of his monitored heart rate. Then it was the gentle murmuring of voices humming near his bedside. After that it was a rushing wave of sensation—the feeling of the sheets underneath him, soft pillow cushioning his head, blanket tucked around his broad frame, and the sight of a bright light shining red against his eyelids. 

He must have groaned, because the next thing he knew Bruce was at his bedside holding open his eye with warm fingers and shining a pinpoint of light that made him grimace and flinch away. It felt like reality was moving slowly, coming in bursts and having limited, muted sound like he was underwater. 

All the sudden, instead of Bruce there was Tony and the other Steve at his bedside, both wearing matching grins that made him a little nervous. They said some stuff he couldn’t comprehend, but before he even tried to emerge fully into consciousness Bruce shooed them away, snapping his fingers right in front of Steve’s eyes and holding some foul, sharp smelling thing in front of his nose.

Everything snapped into focus. Full sound returned as he coughed and sneezed, sitting up in the bed, resting his arms on his knees. 

Bruce let out a relieved sigh as he stood next to him, resting a hand on his shoulder, “Glad to see you awake, Steve.”

Rubbing his eyes that were slightly throbbing, Steve nodded and said, “Glad to be awake.” Then he cleared his throat, blinking blearily up at Bruce against the harsh light, and said, “How long have I been out?”

Before Bruce could answer, Tony’s voice came from where he was sitting cross-legged on the bed next to his. Steve blinked a little. He hadn’t quite noticed that before.

“Eleven hours, twenty-two minutes and,” Tony looked down to check his watch. “Fourteen seconds.” 

His brain not quite able to come up with a response, Steve just nodded as his gaze shifted over to his doppelganger sitting (well, more like leaning) beside Tony on the same hospital bed, wearing that same tight white t-shirt and tan pants, hands still wrapped in gauze but they were now clean. His gaze went straight to the other Steve’s bulging biceps, made so because of him crossing them across his broad chest. 

Bruce’s voice materializes from beside him, “—iter your progress as the day goes on. Make sure nothing else like this fainting spell happens again. We don’t exactly know the nature of the magic used on you.” 

Steve’s gaze whips from where it had been fixed and faces Bruce, who merely raises an eyebrow. Steve just nods.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll uh.” Steve clears his throat, it feeling rather dry. “I’ll let you know if I feel strange, Dr. Banner.”

Bruce leans his head back a little, blinking like he was surprised, but recovers quickly with a light of curiosity in his eyes. 

“Okay then.” Bruce turns to Tony and the other Steve and points a warning finger at them, “I’m going back to my lab to check on some things. But…” he narrows his eyes and, for a second, his eyes flash green. 

“I’ll be watching.”

Damn if that wasn’t the scariest thing Steve has ever seen. He shifts uneasily on the bed, looking over to Tony and the other Steve who meet Bruce’s threat with cool looks and nods.

Patting a comforting hand against Steve’s shoulder, Bruce walks out of the white room and back to his lab. 

Steve calls after him, “Thanks, Dr. Banner.”

Bruce just waves a hand in acknowledgement and keeps walking.

Steve has nowhere else to look besides his two companions on the other bed. Tony sends a sly look at the other Steve, who doesn’t break his gaze from Steve, but his smirk broadens. Combined with his casual leaning against the bed, arms crossed against his chest, he looks equal parts dangerous and arousing.

Blinking rapidly and shifting against the sheets uncomfortably, Steve becomes intimately aware of his and his doppelganger’s previous activities as his ass makes known its sensitivity and twinges, making him wince a little and clench one of his hands against his sheets at the hyper awareness of just how sore his rectum is.

Steve isn’t surprised that it’s Tony who speaks first.

“You know we’re all working hard to get you two back to just one Steve,” Tony begins, meeting Steve’s curious gaze. “Bruce and I don’t know which one is the original and which is the copy, or whether or not you’re both replications, but I’d say with how fast Bruce’s brain works he’ll have it figured out by the end of the day.”

Steve relaxes back onto the pillow behind his back and smiles, relieved to get back to normal soon. The little voice in the back of his head that was secretly worrying about what life would be like with another him, let alone another him that he was attracted to, walking around the tower calmed at Tony’s assuredness. He wasn’t just a little worried about what the others would think of him if they found out what he did.

Cheeks flushing slightly, Steve clears his throat again and nodded, eyes falling from watching those cool pools of brown. “Good. That’s uh. That’s good.”

“Ready to get rid of me, Stevie?” The other Steve said, smirk still in place.

Steve’s head shot up, eyes flicking from the other Steve to an amused looking Tony.

“Uh. W-well, it’s what’s best, isn’t it?” He asked, hands picking restlessly at the blanket. “I mean, there’s only supposed to be one Steve, not two.”

The other Steve pushed off from where he had been leaning against the other bed, his arms uncrossing to lay at his sides as he took just a few slow steps forward to be right beside Steve, who gulped audibly at the rush of arousing trepidation as his approach triggered the memory of how he crossed the holding cell room hours earlier. 

Feeling equal parts nervous and eager, Steve eyes lock on the identical blue pair leaning towards him as the other Steve cups his cheek, pinky curling under his jaw and forefinger nudging into his hairline, the fabric of the gauze rough against his smooth skin. They were so close their noses were millimeters away from brushing. Steve could feel the heat radiating off of the identical face so close to his own. A sharp jolt of embarrassed awareness shoots through his chest as his eyes snap over to Tony.

“W-wait,” he whispers against the other Steve’s lips, hands coming up against the other Steve’s chest to weakly push his doppelganger away. It certainly didn’t strengthen his resolve to feel the hot skin under his palms, seeping through the thin cotton fabric easily.

Tony’s hungry gaze confuses Steve, but he doesn’t have enough time to think any further before the other Steve uses the hand on his face to turn his gaze back to meet his own. The other Steve’s lust-filled eyes, pupils blown wide, stare hard into his before he abruptly leans forward and seals their lips together, his wet tongue sliding past Steve’s pliant lips to positively ravish his mouth, plunging in and out slowly in a clear imitation of their earlier activities. 

Steve’s eyes close reflexively, his body relaxing and melting into the kiss, hands fisting into the other Steve’s shirt to pull him impossibly closer, unable to stop a sighing moan from escaping as he tilts his head and presses forward.

Steve really is a sucker for kissing—the caressing, reverent dance of tongue on tongue, conveying what the other person is feeling. The other Steve was saying exactly what he wanted to do to his body, making love to his mouth by plunging his tongue in and out, flattening his hot organ wide to rub against Steve’s own tongue, making Steve tremble at the taste and texture. Then the other Steve pointed his tongue to slide the very tip against the oversensitive side of Steve’s tongue as he pulled out tantalizingly slowly before plunging roughly back inside, repeating the process with enthusiasm. 

It was a messy make out, saliva coating Steve’s lips and dripping down his chin, but fuck was it hot. Steve could feel his pants tighten as his erection strains against the fabric, realizing that he has been making keening sounds with every stroke of the other Steve’s tongue against his own.

Then the bed dipped beside him. The other Steve brought up his other hand, holding his head in place and continuing to kiss him before he could turn. Steve’s head was cradled now, one wrapped, wide hand on either side holding him still as the other Steve ravished his mouth, sweeping his tongue up and down and swirling around his own before withdrawing to lick his lips before lightly biting down on his bottom lip and tugging.

“Nnngg!” Steve moaned, hands gliding up that hot chest to wrap around the muscular neck so he could pull his double back to his needy mouth. He was so lost in a haze of pleasure that he didn’t notice the sound of a zipper and cloth hitting the floor.

The other Steve chuckled into his mouth, scratching at Steve’s scalp with the very tips of his fingers while he massaged his lips, just lips, against Steve’s, willing him to get his tongue inside first. Then Steve did—laving at his bottom lip soothingly, coaxing, pleading for him to open his mouth. The other Steve did, groaning deep from his chest at how fast Steve plunged inside, rubbing, swirling, and sucking at his tongue. They were both panting heavily by this point, chests heaving, noses inhaling great big gulps of air as often as they could without get lost in the sensation. 

Both of their pants were painfully tented, their erections straining against the fabric and begging for some friction. The other Steve caved first, bending one leg at the knee and lifting himself onto Steve’s lap, straddling him with both knees on the bed as their mouths remained locked, lips smacking wetly, air filling with the sound of their desperate pants and moans. 

Then Tony was there, naked and hard and leaking behind Steve, mouthing and nipping at the sensitive shell of his left ear as his warm, calloused hands smoothed up and around Steve’s back to his chest. Steve whined into the other Steve’s mouth as Tony’s rough fingers found his nipples, pressing against the sensitive skin, circling around them and lightly scratching with his blunt nails as he continued his assault on Steve’s ear, laving at the skin behind his ear, tongue pointing to traced up the shell before nipping the very tip. His attention to Steve’s nipples caused them to pebble, perfect to pinch and pull in tandem with a teething tug on his ear and a plunging wet tongue into his ear canal.

Steve broke the kiss with a cry, his face feeling hot and overheated as the other Steve’s breaths puffed into his face, those blue eyes clouded with lust identical to his own looking just as lost as he was.

How come it seemed like every time he was left in a room with someone they ended up having sex?

Not that he was complaining. Far from it. An identical, albeit more cool and sexy version, of himself in his lap, doing dangerous things to his neck, and a horny Tony at his back, doing equally if not more so dangerous things, well that was just a once in a lifetime opportunity. 

Steve was going to take advantage of it. 

One hand threading through the soft blond hair on the back of his doppelganger’s head, Steve leaned his head back to give him better access, baring his throat in a curve that accented his adam’s apple. His other hand dropped from where it had been around his double’s neck to slide up a hard thigh and grip his firm ass. Shit. No wonder his other self had eaten him out earlier.

“GAH!” He gasped, eyes blowing wide at the electric shock of pure pleasure that shot straight from his nipples to his throbbing cock at a particularly harsh tug courtesy of Tony’s calloused fingers. This also caused his back to bow, hips shifting forward to rub his knee against his doppelganger’s equally aroused erection.

The other Steve groaned into his neck, the vibrations making Steve shudder. He was laving at the slightly salty skin, alternating licking and sucking and biting to guarantee a hickey later. He was feeling possessive. There was a pressure on his cock now. The other Steve took advantage of it, tensing his thighs, tilting a little to be right over that muscular thigh, and rolling down slow.

“Nnnngg!” The other Steve moaned, biting down on Steve’s neck and circling his tongue before sucking harshly, still rolling his hips, rubbing his fabric-constricted cock against that hard thigh. His hands gripped his double’s shoulders, fingers digging down in time with his slow, tortuous frotting.

Tony was in heaven. He could go forever making love to Steve’s sensitive ear, tugging and tweaking his nipples, which he was certain were a gorgeous red color underneath that annoying white shirt. Wait, why was he the only one naked?

Steve whined at the loss of Tony’s heat-radiating torso and magic hands and tongue.

Tony just chuckled, “So _needy_ , Steve. Keep calm, cap. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Then Tony’s hands were at Steve’s waist, his warm fingers brushing against smooth skin as he tugged at his thin cotton shirt that was slightly wrinkled from earlier. 

“Off,” Tony commanded, his voice rough and low and kind of breathy as his eyes locked in Steve’s muscular back, tracing the path of every inch of revealed skin as the other Steve tugged the shirt off of Steve. Tony gulped, licking his lips as Steve’s full back came into view, his eyes drinking in the sight of those perfect, rippling muscles, his hands spreading wide and tracing down every shadow and dip of his spine and shoulder blades. Damn Steve was ripped. 

Tony had always been a tactile being. Kind of like a cat. If he found something he liked, he liked to paw at it and lick it. Feverishly. 

“Aaanngg!” Steve panted, one hand gripping the back of his double’s head tightly while the other squeezed his twin’s ass, Steve’s forehead falling to rest on the other Steve’s shoulder. “T-Tony.”

Tony was too busy to reply, his hands massaging those delicious muscles his tongue was paying attention to, but mostly his spine, which was the saltiest from sweat. Tony licked and nipped with perfect white teeth, fingers kneading the tight muscle. He had a moment of clarity then, but just a moment. It was enough to pant out, “Both of you get naked right now or I swear I’m going to blow early.”

Steve was a trembling, groaning, whining pile of mush.

So it was the other Steve’s duty to strip them both. He couldn’t help a shudder from wracking his frame as he slid off of Steve’s thigh, standing beside the bed on unsteady legs as his hands fumbled with his double’s belt, his skin feeling hypersensitive where Steve was breathing hotly against his abdomen where he was bonelessly resting his head. He had to brace a steadying arm on Steve’s shoulder to keep him upright as he tugged his pants off, lifting his double’s hips up to slide pants and underwear down and off his legs. Now it was just a matter of how he could strip without his double melting into the floor.

As always, Tony solved the problem, sliding forward legs straight out on the bed, pulling Steve back against his chest, covering the pulsing blue of the arc reactor and nestling his leaking, hot cock right up against the crease of Steve’s ass. Tony grinned lecherously, hands tugging and circling Steve’s nipples as he resting his chin on Steve’s shoulder, staring at the other Steve with completely unrestrained lust.

“Gonna give us a show or not?”

Steve backed up a couple steps, his head rolling back and tilting with a dangerous smirk that sent electric shocks of arousal twitching through both Steve’s and Tony’s dicks.

“You want a show, huh?”

Steve never considered himself to be an egotistical person. Sure, when he first got the super serum he would sometimes check himself out in the mirror right upon waking to make sure he hadn’t shrunk, but that was about it. Now, though… holy shit he was fucking _gorgeous_.

The other Steve was like the humanized form of sex.

He wasn’t doing anything particularly lewd, just staring at Steve and Tony with those electric blue eyes radiating pure lust and swaying gently from one side to another, but it sure felt to Steve like he was trying to make him melt into the floor. Steve’s whole body was flushed and hot, trembling with every tweak Tony made to his nipples, biting his lip to hold in a groan.

The other Steve grinned at the barely restrained moan his double made, running his wide hands over his own clothed stomach, relishing in the heat of his palms, letting his eyes fall shut as his fingers slid up, tugging at his shirt and feeling the cold air met a thin strip of skin along his abdomen while his hands continued up, up his abs, across his chest, brushing against his sensitive nipples, tipping his head back as his hips swayed. Then Steve made this anguished moan, definitely open mouthed with how loud it was. The other Steve’s eyes snapped open at the sound, hands stilling, one on his neck and the other on his chest, taking in the image of his double being thoroughly molested by one Tony Stark.

Tony had never been a patient man. He was a man of vision. A man of prowess. Currently, he was a man watching a thoroughly turned on Steve staring at him while he lavished his wet tongue over the sweet Steve’s ear, one hand curled possessively around his rapidly swelling cock. Smirking devilishly, Tony bit the very tip of Steve’s ear, his heart thudding rapidly at the answering gasp and moan. Making a ‘carry on’ gesture with his free hand, Tony quirked an eyebrow and stared at the standing Steve.

The other Steve just blinked and smirked, hooking a thumb under his white shirt and inching it up just a little on the right side, unbuttoning and unzipping his shorts before hooking his other thumb right under the waist and band of his underwear. Staring hard at Tony heatedly, the other Steve cocked his hip, pulling his shirt up and pants down to bear a long strip of toned flesh from the crease of his hip to the top of his hard abs.

Tony gave an answering groan at the sight, burning brown eyes locked on the other Steve’s smooth skin as his mouth worked on Steve’s neck, tongue laving at his salty, hot flesh as his lips sucked. His hand around Steve’s hot cock was still lazily rubbing up and down, gently squeezing like a tease. Tony could feel his dick jump in excited response as the other Steve started to sway again, his eyes locked on his twin at Tony’s mercy. Tony took in every inch of skin that painfully slowly emerged with the tugs at the other Steve’s white shirt, unable to stop his hips from rolling his leaking cock up against the snug crease of Steve’s ass.

Steve was on fire. He could tell that his face was flushed from the heat radiating off of his skin. Was this even normal? He was panting, grinding back into Tony, bearing his neck to let the other man have his wicked way with it, eyes drooping half-mast while locked on his sexy, sexy double whose gentle swaying and lust-emitting eyes personified the entire situation. Steve had never been a sexual deviant. He was a traditionalist—meet a nice dame, wine and dine her, court her, make it official they were going steady, and then on a special date—anniversary, Valentines day, birthday—they would make slow, sweet love in the missionary position. So what the fuck was this? Whatever it was, he was pretty sure he’d never been this turned on. Ever.

His thought process was immediately halted as Tony bit right over his pulse point, suckling and moaning into his neck to where he felt the vibrations through Tony’s _teeth_. They sent a hot rush of arousal straight to his weeping cock that violently twitched in Tony’s calloused grip, causing his eyes to flutter closed and his mouth to gasp and moan, one hand flying up to tangle his fingers into Tony’s soft hair, the other lightly gripping Tony’s forearm that flexed with every slow rub and squeeze to his fully erect cock.

At Steve’s rapid unraveling right in front of his eyes, the other Steve resolved to make those sounds keep coming as often as possible. He’d never heard himself make those kinds of noises before, purely sexual in nature and so fucking needy it made him tremble in unrestrained lust. He was wearing far too many clothes. His cock felt restricted at the tight fabric stretched across his large bulge. 

The other Steve sent a heated look to match the mischievous one from Tony, whose hand was pumping fast just at the tip of Steve’s leaking cock. The other Steve licked his lips at the sight, his body going into a slow, sensual roll as he hooked both of his thumbs under his shirt before peeling it off and tossing it to the floor, feeling a shiver wrack his frame as Tony’s gaze locked on his revealed nipples that had hardened at the cool air. 

He was swaying again, making his way so slowly back toward the bed while his hot hands smoothed over his stomach, fingers playfully dipping into the waistband of his pants and underwear—but then Steve made this fucking ethereal noise, a kind of keening hiccup of pure need that was so arousing the other Steve very nearly came in his pants.

He opened his eyes, not even sure when he had closed them, to see the singularly hottest thing that had ever immediately burned into his retinas—seriously, this beat every pinup he had ever had.

Steve was a melting, trembling wreck, leaning back into Tony, head lolling against his shoulder to bear his gulping throat, stretching taut his toned torso whose muscles defined and smoothed with every heaving breath he took. One arm was bent up, hand latched and pulling Tony’s hair, while the other was gripping his own knee with a white-knuckled grip. Tony had one arm wrapped around Steve’s waist and hand pulling at his red cock weeping come from the tip and dribbling down the thick shaft, his other arm where the other Steve couldn’t see, but for his elbow bending out from behind Steve.

Holy shit he was fingering him.

The other Steve was so done. He needed to fuck someone _yesterday_. Abandoning his slow sway and roll, the other Steve shucked off his pants in one swoop, stepping out of them and dropping to his knees right in front of the bed. One wide, hot hand slid against and gripped his double’s hand that had been clutching at his knee, which turned up for them both to entwine their fingers in a tight grip. The other Steve scooted forward, sliding his other hand up Steve’s trembling thigh to the junction where his leg met his pelvis, thumb wedging into the crease and nudging into his curly blond pubic hair while his other fingers and palm curved around the top of that hard thigh. 

He leaned his head forward, smoothing his cheek against Steve’s sensitive inner thigh as he nuzzled at his hard, heady smelling cock, breathing hot against it before flattening his tongue and swiping it up and around the base, laving and kissing and sucking at the musky, salty skin that tasted like come and sweat. 

Tony was pretty sure this broke his top 5 hottest experiences of all time. Maybe even top 3 depending on how they arranged themselves. Watching the other Steve suck and lick Steve’s balls and cock like it was the most delicious ice cream ever made was just about enough to make Tony rut against Steve’s hot, perfectly rounded ass and come enough to fill the Grand Canyon. But he was experienced. Tony knew that withholding pleasure, keeping it ebbing and flowing just on the crest without spilling over, made it all the more pleasure inducing in the end—like enough to put him in a coma. But he was getting distracted. 

With the other Steve paying vigorous attention to Steve’s twitching, leaking cock, Tony just held his hand still, only gripping around the hot, reddened mushroom head of Steve’s dick to hold it up for easier access. It was his other hand that was doing the real important work, a single deft finger probing and circling, dipping and curling up into Steve’s channel, the way being slicked by the leftover come leaking out of his pink hole. It wasn’t nearly enough though. Being the experienced lover that he was, Tony carried a selection of lubes on his person at all times. They all were different, some were flavored, some tingled, some heated, and some made everything they touched feel 10x more sensitive. 

He picked one at random, pulling the small tube out of his pocket, unscrewing the top one-handed and chuckling at Steve’s whine at the removal of his fingers. In apology, Tony tipped his head to the side, rubbing his prickly stubble against Steve’s smooth cheek and planting a kiss at his jaw as his one hand unscrewed the top of the tube, letting the top fall to the sheets while he used his imagination to picture what he was doing. From their angle, Tony couldn’t see anything. 

Steve’s head was lolling bonelessly back against his shoulder, Tony’s chin resting on Steve’s opposite shoulder, his only view ranging from Steve’s immaculate neck down his heaving chest, rippling pectorals, and nearly purple, leaking cock held captive in Tony’s other hand, to the other Steve’s bobbing head, blond hair shifting with every movement, right at the base of Steve’s dick. Not to mention the fact that his head was held in place by Steve’s wide hand threaded into his hair that occasionally gave him a pleasurable tug in tandem with every loud suck from the other Steve.

A very nice angle indeed. Tony’s mouth twitched in temporary frustration. He only had one hand available. How on earth was he going to—oh… well that certainly worked. While pausing for just a few seconds, Tony had been resting the tube against Steve’s back, which caused the other man to shiver. There was always direct application. 

Shifting backward to where his fully aroused dick wasn’t wedged between the crease of Steve’s ass, but just the tip touching, Tony upended the tube, squeezing out a long, dripping line of lube from just above the crease of Steve’s ass to his own cock from tip to base. Tony hissed at how cold it felt compared to his heated skin, but then Steve’s hand squeezed in his hair, blunt nails scratching against his scalp, and he got back to business. His free hand circled his own cock, rubbing from base to tip, slicking the underside and tip with the lube. Then it was Steve’s turn. 

Fingers coated in the almost oily substance, Tony rubbed a finger between those perfect globes of Steve’s ass, probing through the crease to find that beautiful puckered hole and sliding the lube all along the outside. It was kind of a mess, since he had applied it blindly the lube was all over Steve’s ass from the top of the crease to dripping on the bed, slicking and lining all between his cheeks. 

Still would ease the way though, so Tony wasn’t too concerned. Well… it depended on what kind of lube it was. Most of them required friction to start working. Tony felt a rush of excitement flash through him at the sounds Steve would make, then it quickly turned to impatience. His finger probing at Steve’s hole wriggled past that clenching outer ring, curling up and circling around to stretch the easily relaxed channel. Clearly the two Steve’s doing this earlier had made the way much more flexible. 

His finger pumped easily in and out of Steve’s hole, the way smooth and slick, so he nudged in his middle finger beside his pointer, pushing them both inside to the second knuckle and scissoring them, stretching out Steve’s channel that was squeezing his fingers so deliciously. It was a somewhat painful angle for his wrist, being so close to the mattress his fingers wouldn’t fit very far. 

Their positions needed to be rectified.

Clearing his throat and peering down at the other Steve laving and licking at Steve’s nearly purple cock, Tony raised an eyebrow and said, “Put it in pause, Cap. We’ve gotta rearrange.”

Tony couldn’t hold back the shiver that wracked his frame when Steve made that delicious keening hiccup when the other Steve let go of his dick to stand up, one of their hands still intertwined.

Steve smirked, saying in a low growl, “Where ya want me, Stark?”

Pupils blowing wide at the rush of arousal that burned through his veins, Tony sent up a silent little prayer that Bruce took a bit longer on that solution to get the two Steve’s back to singular. A pleading, needy Steve was gorgeous for his cock, but a cool, sexy Steve was equally perfect for his ass. It was decided.

Tony quipped out, “Steve on all fours on the bed, me on him while you’re on me.”

The other Steve grinned slow, his approval very clear from his dick giving a twitch. 

“Sounds good for a first round,” he said in that same deep voice, eyes locked on Tony’s but his body moving forwards to bring his mouth close to Steve’s. “That work for you, Stevie?”

Steve’s hand left Tony’s hair to curve around his double’s head, fingers threading roughly through his blond hair, palm pulling him forwards for a rough, messy kiss.

“Yes, yes, yes, yesss,” he whispered against his lips, punctuated by kisses all over his cheeks and down his jaw.

Tony gave a low chuckle, scooting backwards to sit at the end of the bed, “Take that as a yes, then.” He patted Steve’s back, “Assume the position, soldier.”

Hands releasing their urgent grip on his double, Steve turned and winced at Tony, “Can we maybe _not_ bring army snark into the bedroom?”

Tony just shrugged, “ _Technically_ we’re in the medical bay.”

Steve frowned.

“But,” Tony sighed, “I guess I can. Sure. Just, sex now, please?”

Steve wasn’t going to press it at the moment, his cock was too hard to concentrate. So he slid back onto the bed, getting on his hands and knees at the head of the bed right at the pillow. Face flushing red at the lewd position, Steve peered over his shoulder, breath hitching at the lust-filled, laser gazes Tony and his double were sending his way.

“L-like this?”

Sitting up on his knees right behind Steve, Tony’s warm, calloused hands caressed and gripped those perfect muscled globes of Steve’s ass and spread them, letting out a shaky breath and answering, “Oh fuck yeah.”

Steve’s ass truly was a work of art. Tony would have to worship his ass another time though, spend hours licking and squeezing and loving it, but now was definitely not right. He’d been cresting on that hot wave of arousal for almost too long. One hand spreading Steve’s cheeks, Tony’s other hand slid down into that luscious crease to probe two fingers against his reddened bud, sliding past that clenching outer rim and inside easily. Eyes locked on Steve trembling beneath him, eagerly taking in the plane of his muscled back to his shoulders to his head drooping forward. Tony licked his lips, pumping his two fingers in as far as they could go, scissoring them wide and twisting his wrist, pulling them back out to stretch the rim. 

Then the other Steve was there, kneeling on his knees right behind Tony, his wide, hot hands spreading Tony’s ass. To oblige, Tony slid his legs further apart.

“Lube’s either the one on the bed or a selection in my pants,” Tony breathed out, bowing his back a little to press his ass harder into Steve’s palms. “Don’t worry about stretching, just slick me up.”

At that declaration, the other Steve went for the lube already uncapped on the bed right beside Tony’s right knee. The faster he was in that already prepped heat the better. Gripping the tube and squeezing some out onto his palm, the other Steve slicked up his cock first, spreading some over Tony’s hole as an afterthought. Then he looked at the tube just before he tossed it onto Tony’s pants on the floor.

Oh.

Breathing in harshly through his nose, the other Steve hissed out a, “Fuuuuuuuuuuck,” right before he started feeling it. Barely there, the stirrings of a slow-burning, tingling heat all along his already painfully hard cock.

But it was nothing compared to what Steve was feeling.

Tony had been massaging the lube into the walls of his ass for fucking ever. The inner walls of his rectum felt like they were on fire, the nerve endings tingling sensitively while every stroke of Tony’s now three fingers stretching the velvety walls of his ass felt so fucking _hot_.

Steve’s arms trembled, his hands fisting the sheets, head drooping low chin to chest, his eyes watering at how hard his cock was. Come was leaking from the slit in the head of his reddened dick, coating his thick shaft and swelled balls. 

“T-Tony,” he whimpered, pushing back against those fingers to get rid of the unbearably hot sensation in his ass. “I’m so—ggnnnnn…hah hah…so close. Just—gah!”

Tony’s fingers curled, pumping in and out of Steve’s ass, pressing hard and dragging against his prostate.

To Steve, it felt like a bomb of pleasure going off in his oversensitive rectum, exploding out in spurts of come, coating the sheets underneath him as his body shivered, hips rolling forwards and back against Tony’s fingers. His mouth dropped open to emit panting gasps and moans, teeth clenching together at the relieving loss of pressure in his dick, but his ass was still on fire. He needed. Damn he needed _something_ to get rid of that feeling. Then he remembered that delicious stretch of the other Steve’s dick as he had speared into him before. His cock awakened, already starting to swell again. This was bad.

Steve dropped his arms to just his elbows, bowing his back and sticking out his ass further against Tony’s fingers, pushing back to get more of that stretch. He felt so fucking needy. Like he had an itch that couldn’t quite be scratched.

Groaning in frustration, Steve panted out hot puffs of breath before whining out, “ _Please_ fill me, Tony. I need more. It’s not—” He rolled his hips back and down onto those three fingers, “Gah! Aaah. It’s not enough. P-please.”

“Shit,” Tony breathed out, plunging in his pinky finger alongside the others, pumping his four fingers in and out twice before gripping the shaft of his oversensitive, tingling dick to line it up with Steve’s pulsing hole. Damn he was hot. Definitely grabbed one of the more intense lubes. “You ready, Cap?” Tony called over his shoulder, wriggling his ass a little.

The other Steve just chuckled and slapped his ass, pressing up a deliciously thick cock against his hole. “Just watching, waiting for the word, Stark. Took ya long enough.”

Tony started off, gripping Steve’s hips on either side, four fingers curved around the crease between his thighs and abdomen, thumbs pressing into his sides, as the head of his cock breeched that clenching, beautifully reddened outer rim. Tony closed his eyes, mouth dropping open to let out his breathy moans at the tight, sucking feeling on his overheating, tingling dick. 

Then the other Steve followed, not quite as sensitive as the other two, spreading apart Tony’s ass with his thumbs hooking right into that hole and pulling before probing with his thick cock, slowly sinking into that tight, hot channel that squeezed him perfectly while he kept pushing in one slow, steady thrust.

Tony’s eyes snapped open, his grip on Steve squeezing hard as his ass was spread so fucking far, the other Steve kept his thumbs inside, pulling at his outer rim, his whole velvety inner walls pulsing and clenching at the painful stretch.

“Fuuuuuuuuck,” Tony whimpered, panting out harshly and holding still as the other Steve kept pushing his thick cock into his ass without stopping. It was way too much. “S-stop, Cap. For the love of—AAAH!”

The other Steve slammed balls deep the last inch, pulling out his thumbs to rub his hands up and down Tony’s trembling back.

He chuckled a little, “Yeah, not very patient.” 

Then he gripped Tony’s hips and started thrusting, slow shallow thrusts, getting used to that tingling friction and heat that was enveloping his dick from the lube.

His movements rocked Tony further into Steve, who was already a wrecked mess. It was just too fucking much stimulation. Steve felt like a needy, pleading body of mush. He was panting, chest heaving, like he was running a marathon. His body was just so _hot_ , he could feel it in his flushed face, his fully erect and leaking cock, throbbing and tingling in his ass that just wasn’t being stroked in quite the right way. He still needed more. 

Bowing his back and pushing back, Steve impaled himself deeper onto Tony’s throbbing cock, moaning at the delicious stretch, whimpering at the way it just didn’t quite fill him. Then Tony got the idea, gripping Steve’s hips hard and pushing all the way in. Steve shakily sighed in relief. 

It wasn’t a graceful rhythm, Tony could barely move with how close to orgasm he was, his dick was almost numb from the feeling of that lube heating up and setting his nerves on fire, his ass being stretched and rubbed with it wasn’t helping at all. The other Steve was starting to really feel it, his cock. Fuck it was like he _needed_ to thrust with abandon to even come.

So it became frenzied. The other Steve pulled all the way out of Tony, leaving in just the tip before slamming back in with a growling groan, pushing Tony balls deep into Steve, who pushed back, setting up their race to finally release the boiling hot coils of arousal deep in their abdomens pressing at their balls and through their swollen cocks. 

The other Steve pumped into Tony, in and out, stretching and filling and rubbing against the pulsing inner walls of his slick rectum, while the rocking motion sent Tony bending over Steve’s back to get a better angle, only able to pull his dick out about halfway before his pelvis was slammed forward to curve against Steve’s ass, his cock burying inside that tingling heat again and again.

They couldn’t last any longer, the slapping squelches of their joining, the moans and whimpers and panting, the heady smell of musky sweat and come, combined with the electric wave of pure arousal building and building with every fucking thrust sent them all over the edge.

The other Steve went first, increasing the speed of his thrusts to be short in and out bursts, milking his cock as he came with a cry, pumping into Tony’s burning hot, clenching ass. Then Tony went at the warm feeling of come coating his inner channel, burying his face into Steve’s muscled, sweaty back and moaning loud and long as his hips stuttered against Steve’s, feeling his ass clamping down on his oversensitive dick as he started to come as well. Steve bit down on the pillow, his head turned to the side, eyes clenched while he cried out, ass sticking out in the air as his cock shot out spurts of come onto the sheets.

They all kind of collapsed then, breathing in deep and fighting through one massive post-coital haze. Steve couldn’t move. He’d come twice and could barely keep his eyes open, but he managed to turn on his side and slide over, the bracing bar to his back, so that Tony could wriggle in front of him. Fighting off the urge to fall into that delicious haze and sleep, Steve nuzzled at Tony’s hair, pressing a kiss to his ear and slinging an arm over his waist as Tony turned sideways, tucking right up against his body like he belonged there. Then the other Steve made the set, turning on his side, his back to Tony’s front, and Steve rested his hand against his double’s stomach. 

And then they slept.

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/n: Holy. Fucking. Shit. You guys. *rests hands on knees while trying to catch breath* Days. A WEEK. To write this. Whew. Okay, I’m going to bed before the sun comes up.


	3. In the Middle, There Was Some Angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Other Steve is kind of an ass. Steve gets upset. Clint and Natasha are awesome. Oh, and Bruce is a genius who can stay up an insane number of hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I apologize profusely for the long wait for this chapter. I’ve had some insane months and it beat my brain bloody (seriously, doing a thesis sucks serious ass), so now I’m cranking out this sort of transition part and (as always) even more sexytimes to get in some character development. Cuz come on, what’s porn without a pinch of plot? Well hot for one thing, but plot makes it hotter, verdad? Ne? :D I think so, anyway. Here we go.

\--

Steve was wavering on that deliciously warm fuzzy feeling halfway between emerging into consciousness and staying under in deep sleep. But something was nagging faintly in the back of his head, like something was off.

Then his ears started picking up something. Rustling. Shifting. A moan?

His eyes shot open, body immediately settling into imitating the rhythm of deep breathing due to training in the army. He’d always been a light sleeper. Catching one of his commandos jerking off while in the same tent, their eyes catching awkwardly, sort of trained him to automatically pretend to be sleeping whenever he’s woken up—especially when those sounds were happening. The shift of fabric, the huff of a breath. Wait a second. Who was in his room?

Then he remembered.

And blushed.

It took everything in Steve not to flinch at the twinge in his ass. So there was only one guess at who was making those sounds. It was definitely Tony.

Then there came another moan, and a huffed laugh. Both of them? Steve frowned, wondering why he wasn’t woken up. It didn’t take too long for him to figure out why.

“S-Steve,” Tony whispered lowly, “we can’t,” he groaned deep in his chest, “c-can’t do this right now.”

“Oh, really?” The other Steve replied, equally quietly and somewhat muffled. “Then what,” he heard the smack of a wet kiss on skin, “exactly,” another one, “are we doing right now?”

Then Tony met his snark, “Isn’t it obvious?” But he quickly followed it with an almost loud groan, cut off suddenly as if from him shoving a fist in his mouth.

Steve blinked his eyes, focusing enough to see that he had turned onto his other side in his sleep, his back to the other two. He was fully awake now. Fully awake and curious as to why he was pretending to be asleep in the first place. He closed his eyes anyway. Old habits die hard.

More fabric shifting, a sigh, a wet rasp, eager sucking and slurping, and an answering gasp.

“F-fuck, Steve,” Tony panted out, still whispering. “Oh shit I’m gonna come.”

Steve could feel the bed shifting, almost meeting every tremble that Tony’s body made as he spends himself into what he can only guess is the other Steve’s talented mouth. Then there’s more shifting, the soft sound of skin sliding on skin, and wet smacks of lingering kisses.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Tony whispered.

The other Steve chuckled lowly, somewhat muffled like his head is turned into Tony’s neck or the pillow.

“And why not?” He whispered just as quietly. “Sleeping beauty is still fast asleep.” There’s some more shifting, then the other Steve’s tone changed to something almost tender. “What if I wanted you to myself?”

Something sharp stabbed through Steve’s chest, almost distracting him from leveling his breathing. The problem was that he wasn’t sure which one he was more desperate to not loose—other Steve or Tony. His distressed, confused thoughts halted as Tony replied with a chuckle.

“You wouldn’t see me complaining.”

Steve’s eyes fluttered, fighting to stay closed, as that sharp sensation returned with a vengeance, tightening across his chest and making his breathing hurt, his eyes sting. He heard another wet kiss, this one lingering. He felt more and more like he was drowning, even though he kept his breathing steady and relaxed as if he was asleep. His chest was on fire, teeth clenching tight and eyes fighting the moisture trying to leak from behind his eyelids.

He heard a huff of a laugh, somewhat muffed as if right against lips, and then the other Steve whispered softly, “Let’s get some breakfast before sleeping beauty wakes up.”

Then the bed dipped, sheets rustled, and two bodies tapped quietly onto the floor, fabric shifting and belts clinking as they dressed. Then after what seemed like a thousand years, they finally tapped quietly across the floor, opening the door with a click and shutting it behind them.

Instead of opening his eyes that were now steadily overflowing with tears, Steve clenched them shut tight, curling his body tightly inward, arms wrapping around his middle as his lips trembled to hold back the sobs threatening to crawl up his throat. He couldn’t hold back the whimper. It just hurt so fucking much.

“Do you need assistance, mister Rogers?” JARVIS’ asked kindly, at least it sounded kind to Steve. But what did he know? He let two men fuck him and they didn’t give a damn.

Steve wiped the tears harshly from his eyes with the back of his hand and sniffed.

“No, thanks JARVIS. I’m fine.” He sat up, pulling himself together. He was fine. He just needed to burn out the desperate, painful energy burning through his chest. “I’m just gonna go to the gym,” he said, sitting up and swinging his legs over the bed, beating himself up for talking to Tony’s tech like JARVIS would really care about what he did.

“Would you like me to activate an Iron Man suit, sir? I imagine it to be a pleasant alternative to smashing Mr. Stark’s face in.”

Steve couldn’t help the raw laugh that burst out of his mouth. A little bit of the burn subsided. At least he had JARVIS.

His tone shifted to grateful, “No thank you, JARVIS. I think I’ll stick to my sand bags.”

“Very well, sir. I shall make a note in the order log to stock more than usual this week.”

Standing and pulling on his pants with a wince, Steve smiled bitterly. “Thanks, JARVIS.”

“You are more than welcome, Captain Rogers.”

A warm feeling settled in Steve at the title. He smiled up at the ceiling, knowing that somehow JARVIS would see it.

\--

Avoiding Tony and the other Steve all day wasn’t as hard as he was expecting it to be, and that hurt even more in itself. Some helplessly stupid part of his brain still hoped that they would seek him out, curious as to why he wasn’t with them, and then desperately apologetic when they intuited how much they had hurt him that morning. A fierce wall blazed up inside him at that thought. Those fuckers would never know.

He launched another pounding volley of punches at the sand bag, teeth clenched tight and face in a tight snarl.

They’d never know how much he had felt for them.

Punch, punch, punch

How much he’d truly—

With a growling yell, Steve tore through the sandbag, snapping the chain at the top and sending the bag slamming into the wall so hard it cracked. He’d sooner die before he admitted that he’d really loved them both. So it didn’t really surprise him when that tight burning flared across his chest again. It was like his heart was dying.

Clutching a hand at his sweat-soaked chest, Steve slumped to the ground on his knees, panting and desperately fighting back the oncoming next round of tears. He couldn’t risk having any physical evidence of his pain, and puffy eyes would definitely tell the other Steve and Tony exactly how much he was hurting. Tipping his head back, Steve opened his eyes, willing the air to dry them out.

“You must really have something against sandbags.”

Natasha’s soft, smooth voice sounded loud in the enclosed room that had rang with nothing but panting and the smacks of fists against sandbags for hours and hours. Steve froze, body going tense. Then he slowly dropped his arm from across his chest, head tipping forward, and eyes blinking, thankfully dry. Somehow he dredged up a chuckle. Even he didn’t buy the strangled, raw huffing sound as normal.

His voice came out rough, “Yeah.”

“Hey,” Natasha said, tone changing from soft to sharp. Steve couldn’t help but turn his head, seeing her perched on top of the 50 bags he’d burst open. She hopped down and crossed the yard distance between them slowly, like he was some delicate thing that needed to be approached gently. Steve swallowed, accepting that he was grateful for her intuitiveness. She rested a soft, cool hand on his shoulder, eyes knowing.

“I know you’re worried about getting back into one body,” she started. Steve couldn’t help but blink at that. Was that what she thought he was upset about? Natasha continued, “But I don’t think you need to worry.” Her lips twitched upwards. “Banner was a mess in the kitchen today, muttering to himself.”

Steve took a steadying breath, “So… you think he found a solution?”

“I think he’s close to it,” Natasha shrugged. “Otherwise I think he’d be with Tony in the lab laughing and gibbering to themselves in science language.”

Steve couldn’t help the wince at Tony’s name. If Natasha noticed, she didn’t say anything. Steve took in a breath, trying to decide whether or not he should pour out his whole story, the real reason why he was a wrecked mess. Would it make him feel any better?

He felt like it certainly would help to be soothed, maybe a hand smoothing through his hair while he sobbed into a pillow and ate mint-chocolate ice cream. Maybe it was just his neediness talking, but maybe that was just why Natasha was so good at infiltration. She just had that quality, that aura that made you naturally trust her.

“You okay, Captain?” Natasha asked, fingers tightening on his shoulder just slightly.

Steve blinked and shifted his eyes to look at Natasha, having no idea how long he’d been thinking, just staring off in space. He smiled weakly at her assessing eyes, not knowing at all what to say besides another rough, “Yeah.”

“Clint and I are watching Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers movies.” Her hand lifted from his arm to rest back by her side. “Wanna join us?”

Steve felt a pang at the loss of contact. What was wrong with him? Blinking and waving away that thought before it led down memory lane to pain, Steve said, “Definitely,” and stood up.

He and Natasha talked about whether Fred or Ginger was the more talented one all the way up the elevator to the living room. Steve never knew she had such a caustic wit before, and found that the sharp burning pain in his chest had dulled enough to where he could genuinely laugh. It was exactly what he needed. Then they met Clint who was sprawled out on the couch, selecting the movie order by talking to JARVIS. Actually, a more accurate word would be arguing.

“But we’ve gotta mix the really, really good ones with the only really good ones!” Clint yells up at the ceiling, waving a half-drunk glass coke around yet not spilling any.

“You will find that watching the talent of Mr. Astaire and Ms. Rogers chronologically to be the best experience. You will watch them grow together as performers, mister Clint, adding another dimension to the experience,” JARVIS replied in his all-knowing tone.

Steve shared an amused glance with Natasha.

“Do what I say, JARVIS!” Clint said, glaring up at the ceiling.

“With the utmost respect, sir, I decline.”

Clint flopped onto the couch with a pout and a petulant muttering of “damn fucking shitfuck.”

Natasha came just as close to snorting as Steve had ever heard, walking up behind Clint and ruffling his hair before circling the couch to sit beside him, leaving a space between them for Steve.

“You’re such a baby, Clinty.” Natasha teased, shifting forward to pick up the popcorn bowl.

“Not as much as you’re a manipulative bitch, Natty,” Clint muttered around his coke bottle.

“I think my point was just proven,” she said, turning her head and tossing a kernel at his forehead.

Clint grinned, “Oh yeah? Well so was mine.” Then he grabbed her hand lightning-fast and fought to lick the salt off her fingers. Natasha gasped indignantly and wriggled her arm, deftly setting the popcorn down on the table with her other arm before pushing at Clint’s face.

“Don’t you dare lick me, baby-face!”

“Only so long as you don’t bite me, bitch-face!”

Their wrestling fight was interrupted by Steve laughing uproariously. He’d never seen the two when they were completely relaxed like this before. They never behaved like warring siblings when the other teammates were around. He felt like he was watching some special moment between two people who had kept their childish humor even through all the things they had seen, and couldn’t help but feel a profound fondness that fed directly into his humor center.

He couldn’t help but laugh, a deep, real laugh from down in his gut. He had to hold his stomach and clench his eyes shut it was making him cramp up so bad. They were assassins and here they were calling each other “baby” and “bitch”. It was quite possibly the funniest thing he’d seen since he was unfrozen, even beating Thor getting his hair caught in a hairdryer.

It was a real testament to how much he needed cheering up, and the two assassins knew it. Clint and Natasha didn’t even have to share a look.

Clint sighed and stopped trying to lick her fingers, letting go of her hands and settling back down to his place on the couch. “Now I’m hungry.” He turned to Steve as he got up, “Want something from the fridge while I’m off to the kitchen?”

Steve’s stomach rumbled at the thought of food. So loud that he couldn’t help the blush heating across his cheeks. He hadn’t eaten anything that morning or afternoon. He didn’t even know what time it was.

Clint let out a bark of laughter and nodded, “I’ll take that as a ‘hell yes’.” He left for the kitchen across the hall, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll make you a big sandwich. DON’T make housewife jokes at me, Nat!”

Natasha grinned, full out grinned at Steve and mimed zipping her lips. Steve couldn’t help giggling a little, then gathering back up his wits and moving around the couch to sit beside Natasha, reaching out for one of the glass cokes to stave off the rumbling hunger.

“So, JARVIS,” Natasha said to the ceiling, “What order are we watching these movies?”

“The best way, miss Natasha. Chronologically.”

Steve nearly snorted out his coke.

\--

It took them only five movies in to start getting tired. Clint had come back with three plates, each with a tall sandwich stacked with meat, cheese, lettuce, tomato, and another layer on top of that, with still even another layer on top of that one. Only one sandwich was for Clint, while the other two were for Steve, who was very grateful that his teammates had noticed how much he actually ate.

After two movies, Natasha had gone to get a tub of ice cream and three spoons. It was at the end of the third that all of it was gone. Steve found his head on a pillow in Natasha’s lap, hair stroked, and his feet in Clint’s lap, soles massaged, about midway through the fourth.

Steve was smiling so contentedly, eyes feeling heavy, that the only way he stayed awake through Top Hat was through sheer love for the movie. Maybe it was the way Jerry was so love struck into impressing Dale, or maybe it was how they danced together during the “Cheek to Cheek” number, but Steve couldn’t help the tears from escaping, trailing across the bridge of his nose and down his cheek to soak into the pillow. He cried silently, but he could tell they knew from the way Clint’s hands massaged deeper, the way Natasha’s strokes through his hair added a relaxing edge of nails lightly scratching against his scalp.

They soothed him into exhausted sleep by the end of Follow the Fleet.

\--

When Steve was deep into his REM cycle, Natasha eased out from under him, placing the pillow bearing his head gently onto the couch. Clint had already succumbed to how heavy his eyes had gotten and was snoring, head tipped back and mouth wide open. She would have taken a picture if she didn’t have important business.

Natasha was very observant. Hell, she kind of had to be with her job. She knew that, being so close to a solution, Banner would be sequestered in his lab working around the clock. Chances were very good that he was still awake. And she had some interesting information to deliver.

Cataloguing the behavior she’d observed for the past two days, Natasha tapped in the door code with lightning-fast accuracy, her hair wisping slightly at the air displacement when the door slid back into the wall with a snick. Her feet didn’t make a sound as she stepped briskly into the vast lab, eyes sweeping across the space littered with some of Tony’s pet projects, what looked like a distillery, screens of algorithms calculating and organizing results manually, and the rows of sleek, white tables stacked with beakers full of liquids, pots with odd colored plants, and various chemistry accoutrements, such as burners.

Then she spotted a dark brown head near the back at a table stacked with flashing tablets, occasionally glancing up to a screen to tap something out before whisking it away to duck back down. 

“Banner,” she said, somewhat quietly so as not to startle him.

She wasn’t surprised to see that his brown eyes were bloodshot. Her eyes flickered down to note the four stained coffee mugs before fixing back to his. 

His voice was surprisingly smooth. “Yes?”

“I have intelligence regarding the two Steve’s that I think you might find interesting,” she said with a slight twitch of her lips.

Banner blinked rapidly. “Intelligence?” Understanding smoothed out his face. “You’ve been watching them.”

Natasha nodded slightly. “They’re opposites.”

Banner straightened up in his chair.

Natasha continued, “Clint and I just spent the night consoling one Steve who was very upset.” She adjusted her stance, slightly uncomfortable. “He was crying.”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. “So he was overly emotional?”

“More emotional than the other one,” she clarified.

“What about him? The other one?”

Natasha couldn’t help her lips from twitching a bit. “He’s been stuck to Tony like a hydrogen bond.”

Bruce’s eyebrows shot up.

“Thought you’d like that,” Natasha full out smirked. “Point is, before there were two, Steve and Tony didn’t exactly get along.”

“So you’re thinking that the two are opposites?”

Natasha nodded. “Yes, but I don’t know what that means exactly. One is more emotional while the other is more like Tony.”

“Self-absorbed?”

“Having narcissistic tendencies would be more accurate,” she clarified. “But that isn’t the most interesting part.”

Bruce nodded for her to continue.

Natasha took a breath, wondering how to exactly word it. She ended up snapping her mouth closed and shrugging one shoulder uncomfortably, locking her eyes on the wall before saying haltingly, “The second Steve… he’s… and Tony…” She scoffed to herself, shaking her head and looking at Banner. Direct is best. “They’ve been fucking like rabbits all day.”

Bruce’s mouth had never dropped open so quick in all his life. Tony jerking off to Steve fucking himself is one thing, but Tony actually _fucking STEVE_?! That was something else entirely.

He managed a weak, “holy… shit…” before his eyes lit up and he spun back around to sift through all the tablets littering the table, muttering to himself before letting out a crow of triumph as he lifted up one of them.

“89%,” he said out loud, spinning back around and standing up to thrust it out at Natasha. “It was a long shot,” he started, voice jacked up to that disbelieving yet excited tone he often used when he and Tony cracked something weird, “but I ran the probability of just about every magic solution we could think up and _this_ ” he pointed to the tablet, “is for the one thing that should be a cake walk.”

Natasha took the tablet and stared at the numbers. She shook her head, not able to discern what they all mean. “This is what will put the two Steve’s back together?”

Bruce nodded. “It’s our best bet so far. If what you think is true, and I’m inclined to believe it is, that the two Steve’s are two completely different parts of Steve’s psyche, than this is how we’ll put them back together.”

Natasha met his eyes. “So what exactly is the solution?”

Bruce sighed, taking his glasses off and running a hand through his mussed hair. “According to this,” he pointed to the tablet with his glasses. “Sex magic.”

Natasha’s world froze. Banner was still looking at her. She blinked, and then winced as the thoughts cascaded through her head. Did Steve have to have sex with _himself_? Did he have to have sex with another team member? DO THEY HAVE TO HAVE AN ORGY?!

Bruce seemed to notice the panicked look on her face and spread out his hands, placating, “Oh no no no! Nothing like what you’re thinking. I don’t know exactly what the Steve’s have to do to become just one again, but I’ll get some of my SHIELD buddies to start researching sex magic and see what we can dredge up. It’ll probably be some kind of ritual with candles.” He smiled a little, that soft doctor smile that he used to use on crying children. “So you can soothe your scarred mind with that. We’ll probably have to bring in some specialists on the topic, as we’re flying blind on the whole ritual thing, but I’m sure we’ll be able to crack this relatively quickly.”

Natasha breathed out, nodding, locking away all those distracting sex thoughts. Maybe to take out later. She handed the tablet back and said, “Right. I’m off to sleep. Good night and good luck, Banner.” Then she turned and left, feeling a bit cold and strange. Maybe she needed something to distract her from thinking about all of her teammates in one big sexpile. Clint wouldn’t be too bothered if she dragged him off to her bed. Probably. 

Natasha’s newfound sexy feelings for her teammates naked bodies aside, let’s rewind a bit. 

Before Steve fell asleep. Before Clint, Natasha, and Steve started their moviethon. Before Steve took out his heartache on all those sandbags—

…the other Steve and Tony had left the medical bay for breakfast.

\--

If Tony was horny, than the other Steve was positively _ravenous_. There was barely a moment where he wasn’t touching Tony—either brushing tantalizingly against his skin or snug against his back, hands on his hips, cloth-straining cock nestled right up against Tony’s ass—when they were cooking. Thankfully Tony, although an early riser by human standards, was later to the kitchen than his teammates. Natasha and Clint had long since finished breakfast and had already started with their daily training sessions. Bruce was sequestered in his lab with a team of SHILD agents researching and making phone calls for sex magic experts, and Thor was off visiting Jane. They didn’t have to worry about any SHIELD operatives in their space, since a whole section of the helicarrier was devoted entirely to their team—complete with their own kitchen. It took all of Tony’s control to not do anything sexy where they all ate.

Granted, it was mostly because both of them were very, very hungry and put away a whole carton of eggs between the two of them as well as a whole pot of coffee and a plate-full of toast. Full and sated, Tony and the other Steve waited in the kitchen a bit for Steve to wake up, passing the time by talking about whatever came to their minds. The topic that kept coming around was fighting, particularly the different styles of their teammates. 

It snow-balled into laughing about some of the antics they had gotten into—teasingly ribbing on how the Hulk had a habit of getting distracted in a fight by small animals in danger, how Natasha used her vice-like thighs to render enemies unconscious rather than shoot them in the knee as Clint was prone to do, and how badass and sexy Tony’s new armor was. 

Chuckles dying down, Tony looked up at the other Steve with a mischievous sparkle in his hazel eyes. “Do you want to come down to the lab and see them all?”

The other Steve’s blue eyes darkened, his lips still up-turned, “Absolutely.”

And that was how they found themselves in Tony’s mechanics lab all day, alternating between awe at the tech and awe at how quick they could get each other to come, nourished by the random snacks Tony kept in mini fridges throughout the whole lab. 

That was how they forgot about Steve.

Then it was the next morning. 

\--

An extremely loud clanging, dangerously close to their heads, rudely awakened Tony and the other Steve. Tony shot upright, sitting by propping himself up on his hands, eyes blown wide and scanning the room quickly to lock on what caused the raucous. A firm-looking Natasha, arms crossed and expression blank, met his bewildered gaze. He was in trouble. He met the threat with his usual response.

“Morning already?”

“Where were you?” She said without any inflection to give away whether she was pissed.

Tony blinked and gestured to the lab, leaning back to prop his head up on an arm in a false pose of calm security, his eyes staying sharp to note the moment her temper snapped and things started flying at his head.

“You were supposed to be looking after Steve.”

The arm around his waist tightened and the other Steve leaned up to rest his chin on Tony’s shoulder. 

Tony pointed back to Steve. “Uh. Yah. That’s what I’ve been doing.”

“Funny. I can only see one.” Natasha pursed her lips together, and Tony tensed. “Find Steve, Tony. Fury gave us one order when Steve went unconscious: constant surveillance.” Her head tilted threateningly. “You don’t want me to report to him that you let one of the Steve’s run free. And for God’s sakes, put on some clothes.” And with that, she spun on her heel and clicked out of the lab, the door sliding shut behind her.

“Well,” the other Steve said, nipping at a purpling bruise on Tony’s shoulder, “guess we better go find Stevie.”

Tony sighed. “Yeah.” He ran a hand over his tired eyes and through his hair, flopping over onto his back. “Time really flew by last night.”

The other Steve chuckled lowly, hand rubbing at the coarse hair trail along Tony’s abdomen. “And this morning,” he said into Tony’s neck, licking a wet stripe up to lave at the shell of his ear, sliding one leg over Tony’s.

“Ah. Don’t even start revving up this engine, pal,” Tony says, pushing back the blanket from his emergency futon they had crashed on the previous night and rolling off with a wince, falling immediately into a set of stretches.

The other Steve watched appreciatively, hungry blue eyes locked on the way Tony’s back flexed, arms tightened to define muscles, and especially the lovely angle when Tony bent over to stretch. His abdomen surged with heat, stomach feeling like it was flipping when his eyes locked on Tony’s reddened hole, locking on the smear of dried come along his thigh. 

He threw off the blanket, taking just two strides to reach Tony, stroking down that warmed soft skin with a wide hand from the bottom of Tony’s spine up his back.

Tony straightened with a chuckle. “I thought we were dressing and finding Steve?” He aimed to the big, hot body behind him.

The other Steve shuffled closer, hands wrapping around Tony’s hips to bring them together and sighing into his hair. It was like he didn’t feel right when he wasn’t touching as much of Tony’s skin as he could. He rubbed his cheek against Tony’s hair and gave his ear a nip, breathing into it, “We are, just not exactly right now.” He punctuated his sentence with a roll of his hips, bringing his slowly swelling erection up and against the crease of Tony’s sensitive ass.

Tony hissed, hands coming up to grip at where Steve’s larger ones were holding his hips. “Definitely not ready for another round after _that_ marathon, tiger.”

Steve shifted sideways a little, still rolling his hips slowly but now against the right globe of Tony’s ass. “Well then,” he said right into Tony’s ear, one hand sliding around to Tony’s abs and down to his cock, circling it lightly and tugging soft, “guess I’ll have to focus on other parts.”

Tony lost coherent thought when the heat of that wide, hot body dropped to the floor, spreading his asscheeks apart with one hand and licking a fucking stripe right over his sensitive hole. The sound he made was nothing but desperate—a sort of cross between a gasp and a choked moan. With the other Steve’s hand oh so lightly circling his dick, tongue almost lazily lapping at his thoroughly used rectum, Tony shut down his brain and focused solely on remaining standing.

The other Steve had a devil tongue. He could point it and curl and _drag_ it against the rim of his hole, prodding just inside only to slide right back out agonizingly slowly. Meanwhile the other Steve’s hand around his dick had started squeezing, keeping it light and teasing, heating up Tony’s blood on a low simmer. 

It was when his legs fucking shook that Tony decided he couldn’t do it anymore.

“Fuck, Steve,” he growled over his shoulder, not quite managing the scowl he was trying for, “stop teasing and make me come _right now_ or I swear I’m gonna lose it.”

The other Steve coughed out a couple chuckles, poorly hiding his amusement at Tony’s torturous predicament, and took his hand off of Tony’s dick only to spit in it before quickly returning it to its previous position wrapped around Tony’s cock and giving rapid pumps at the base. His tongue returned to Tony’s ass, wriggling inside with a goal in mind, pointing, curling, dragging against his sensitive walls, and widening on the way out for a good stretch.

Tony had to bit his bottom lip hard to keep the whines in the back of his throat. It was just too early for this shit. His legs were shaking from holding himself up during the onslaught on his sex. His dick was fully hard and glistening on the tip, swollen and so fucking ready to come like he hadn’t multiple times the night previous. Steve was turning him into a fucking _stallion_. 

He huffed out irritatedly, “Fuck, Steve. Just…” he rolled his hips back on Steve’s tongue, wincing at the sharp burn at the wide tongue entering his sore rectum even further, “f-fucking…”

Steve knew Tony was done. His cock was so hard it looked uncomfortable. So he slid his hand from Tony’s hip and gripped his own cock, wrapping his rough hand around it to give a couple rough pulls before matching his pace on Tony’s dick, feeling him getting close by his increasingly desperate pants and his ass clenching around Steve’s tongue. Then they came almost simultaneously, Steve going rigid on the floor and shooting onto Tony’s ankles as Tony came over the floor and Steve’s hand with a choked gasp, legs shaking so hard Steve guided him down to sit in his lap.

They laughed in a pile, the other Steve turning his head into Tony’s shoulder as Tony intertwined their legs one on top of the other. 

“We really need to stop getting distracted like that,” Tony said breathlessly, tugging a little at one of the tan arms the other Steve had wrapped around his middle.

The other Steve huffed into his shoulder and nipped it a little. “You say distracted, I say prioritizing.”

Tony snorted and untangled them carefully. “Come on, tiger. We need to do some productive things for once. Like finding Steve.”

The other Steve nodded with a sigh and stood, looking around for his pants. “You’re right. It’s been awhile since we’ve seen Stevie.” The other Steve cocked his head a little. Why hadn’t Stevie looked for them down here? Oh well. Maybe he got tired and went on to bed or something.

Little did the other Steve know that his other half was well and truly past the point of pissed and hurt straight to the stage of delusional acceptance and bitterness. He had a lot to fix.

While Tony and the other Steve found their clothes, something productive was happening in Bruce’s lab. 

“Sir,” a lanky, brown-haired agent named Bob aimed the title at Banner over his shoulder from where he was viewing an info screen on his computer.

“You have something for me?” Banner said, his weariness having long worn down his ability to sound excited.

Bob half turned in his chair and angled the computer screen towards Bruce. “I found this little shop in California that specializes in magic. But look at this,” he clicks on some index with a long scroll of inventory, “they have a book on sex magic, sir.”

Bruce eased off his chair, the soreness in his limbs from researching almost all night quite set into his achy bones. “Okay, let’s look at this.” He leaned over Bob’s shoulder, adjusting his glasses and squinting at the title. Then he straightened up and leaned closer to the computer, a rare spark lighting up his eyes. Grinning, Bruce clapped Bob on the shoulder. “Good work, agent. Do they have a phone number on here?”

“Uh…” Bob turned back to the computer, scrolling down and clicking on the Contact Us tab. “Yes sir.”

“Call them up and arrange for a pick up to bring one of them here. Whoever owns the store would probably be best, but ask for someone who has experience on the ritual.” Bruce called over his shoulder, shuffling tiredly to his newly installed couch to collapse for a nap before they arrived. 

Hopefully the Steve’s would be back to one that very day. 

Bruce snorted in his delirious, half-asleep state. What kind of a name was Sunnydale, anyway?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, okay, so... *scratches back of head* this kinda turned into a crossover? I don't even know. Leamme 'lone. *crawls back into foxhole*


End file.
